If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees.
-- Hal Borland
There is no better time to study trees than now. Trees live in the moment, drawing upon the earth for sustenance, from the air, from the sun, from the rain. I have always loved trees. As a child, I sized up every tree in sight on the basis of whether it was a good “climbing tree” or not. When we lived in Honolulu, I loved to play on and under those wonderful Banyan trees. They constituted a playground in themselves, touched by mystery and nurture.
My life has always sought the solace of trees: a hideaway where I could read without interference, a place for a swing, the shade from a Southern summer sun, the scattering of fruits, pecans, walnuts and chestnuts out of their abundance, the statuesque quality in a landscape of snow. When one must be cut down in the interest of commerce and street building, I weep. When others fall after buffering by storms, I grieve. When a forest is felled for its lumber and commercial value, I am enraged. Trees belong to this planet as gifts to honor and care for, to increase our connections to the world around us. I give thanks daily for the trees I have met, known intimately, played under and in, blessed for their shelter of birds and squirrels and cicadas. This collection is my thanksgiving to the trees of this world.
Back Yard Music
Listen to the trees sing!
Reluctant to offer words to air,
they share songs of earth
and wind, in diminuendos
of whisper, crescendos of wind
playing harps on high branches.
Crows, raccoons, robins
gather acorns and twigs, tickets
to this concert, scaling barked aisles.
Sight now transformed by light,
this wild stage an orchestra
of brilliant cadenzas – music modulated
in treble and bass, their autumnal tones
enough to forestall the chill, dark days .
The collection is through lulu.com and will be available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, and from me.